Deep in the Darkness
by Laurenhd08
Summary: Looking back now she couldn't help but feel that she hadn't even been in the vicinity of damaged, hell she hadn't even known the definition. Trigger warnings for abuse, self-harm, depression, drugs, and rape. I do not own house or it's characters. Eventually Cadley, don't like, don't read.


A/N: Okay so there were way too many screw-ups and grammar mistakes in my House fanfic "Deep in Darkness" to continue it without feeling an undeniable sense of shame. So I am rewriting said story and taking extra care with it. It still doesn't follow the storyline of the show, as Cameron never dated or married Chase and therefore never left the hospital. Trigger warnings for abuse, self-harm, and rape.

She was tired. Not the kind of fatigue that she had been experiencing for the past year, the kind that pushed against her chest every morning and left her body begging her common sense to give up and allow it to sleep the day away. Not even the liquefying sleepiness that she experienced after a particularly long shift. No this was much more extreme than that, this was a mental exhaustion that left her believing that she might never be fully awake again and even worse, that she might not want to be.

If she had been asked at that very moment to describe herself fourteen months ago, she wouldn't have hesitated in saying that she had been innocent and maybe even a little naïve. Strike that she had definitely been naïve, sure she had been through some tough times but her definition of tough then and tough now were separated by a giant chasm. Six years ago House had thoroughly believed that she cared so much about other people's well being because she was damaged and, after awhile, she had hesitantly agreed with him. Looking back now she couldn't help but feel that she hadn't even been in the vicinity of damaged, hell she hadn't even known the definition. She was a completely different person than she had been all those years ago and even last year, she knew it and worse her co-workers knew it. Her eyes were paled with experience and pain and they were always underlined with dark circles that reflected her sheer exhaustion. Her shoulders were constantly slumped and she found herself caring less and less about House's extreme procedures and eventually even the patients he performed them on, but she avoided him like the plague anyway because she didn't want to deal with his comments about what he thought he knew about her.

The only person she could stand to be around for more than a couple of hours was thirteen and that was because she was, well thirteen. They had only been best friends for about three years but they knew each other better than they knew themselves and she knew that she was kidding herself if she thought that Remy hadn't noticed the severe decline in her attitude and behavior in the past year. Remy knew her; she knew how to comfort her depending on the problem, she knew to corner her when she blocked herself off and pulled away, she knew her quirks and habits and she knew what she was feeling based on which one she was performing, and she knew that she had been living in hell for the past fourteen months. In turn Allison knew that Remy had been living in her own kind of hell for the past fourteen years, she knew how to cheer her up when the hopelessness radiated off of the brunette, and she knew what food she was craving depending on her mood. The only thing that Remy seemed to be oblivious to was Allison's vastly growing feelings for her and that was probably because they had been developing for about a year and a half.

Even the striking brunette couldn't help her in that moment as the blood of her captor ran down her face like raindrops do on a glass window. She couldn't be sure how long she had knelt beside him with the glass shard held tightly in her hand but if the blood trickling down her palm were any indication of how long and how hard she had been clenching it than it had been quite a while. She wouldn't be able to stay awake for much longer, hours of torture and abuse can do that to a person, but she knew she had to reach her phone before the adrenaline wore off. With a shaky hand she reached for the portable and dialed the three-digit number, smiling humorlessly at the irony of a doctor calling for an ambulance.

"911, what's your emergency?" She smirked at the operator's business tone, just now realizing how harsh it sounds to the person on the other end of the line. Her voice was hoarse from screaming so she answered with the least amount of words that she could get away with.

"An attack… 16 Williams rd., apartment 4B. Send police and an ambulance." She hung up before the operator could respond, mostly because she didn't want to hear her distant voice anymore and she let the darkness that she had been desperately pushing back wash over her. Her last thought being that she'd have to retract her statement to House all those years ago, not all birthdays are an excuse to be happy.

A/N: So let me know what you think you crazy kids! Critique is welcome and PM me if you have any ideas for the story.


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